Twenty two years. That’s how long The Gingerbread Tradition has thrived in my family.
Six is the minimum number of hours it takes to assemble and decorate a Gingerbread House. This does not include the time it takes to mix, roll out, bake and cut out the pieces. Nor does it include the time it takes to make the candy for the windows. This work is already completed by Gingerbread Day.
Once is the number of times I have laughed until I peed my pants while we ate almost as much frosting as we used on our houses.
One hundred is the decibel count (according to our husbands, especially Quinn) when Aunts and Cousins start singing along with our good friend Karen Carpenter. We get even louder when we start in on the Charles in Charge theme song.
Three is the number of Gingerbread Houses that were made the first year in Auntie Kim’s kitchen.
Last year there were at least twelve.
Thirty seconds is how long my decision not to make a Gingerbread House this year lasted after I announced it to my family. All of them, including the Husband, were devastated by the news.
Two is the number of friends I invited to make their Gingerbread House number One.
Two is the number of friends who want to come back next year.
Zero is the number of regrets I have about changing my mind, keeping the tradition alive, and spreading our Gingerbreadness across the country.
Thank you so much, Robin and Teresa.
